


Rewind

by icaruslaughed



Series: Suptober20 [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x18, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Dean Being Dean, Suicide, This is not Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icaruslaughed/pseuds/icaruslaughed
Summary: day 12 of suptober
Series: Suptober20 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955047
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Rewind

**Author's Note:**

> TW!!: suicide, please don’t read if it’s not good for your mental health because trust me i’ve been down that road and it’s not good

the blood’s dry but my tears aren’t. the blood feels like it’s burning a mark into my skin, right where a scar still remains from when one angel out of thousands managed to drag my ass out of hell. similar odds to those that allowed life on earth, of all places. similar in nature, too: there was once a time in my life when i actually believed that coincidence played a role in those events, and not the will of god. when i believed that everything i’ve ever said or done was by choice and not just me following some divine script. 

the blood’s dry but my tears aren’t. no, they still fall in steady streams down my face. “ _cry me a river,_ ” dad used to snap every time i fucked up on a hunt and he drilled the thought into my head. “ _cry me a river,_ ” he laughed when i sobbed for hours before he could even tell me i screwed up because i just _knew_ and i felt so guilty that someone got hurt on my watch. “ _cry me a river,_ ” i can hear him say even now that he’s gone--or is that just the part of me that i stole from him? doesn’t matter, he’s still giving me shit either way--because i let someone die on my watch. again. 

the blood’s dry but my tears aren’t and there are still scorch marks left on the floor and the wall and _me_ in the shape of broken wings. someone should really clean those up. someone should be me. but i know i won’t, at least not for a little while. so i just sit here and grieve.

later, i’ll stretch my stiff joints and finally get up. i’ll sneak into the kitchen and down a fifth of whiskey even though i already feel numb inside. my tears will mix with the alcohol and i’ll savor the salty taste i forced myself to get used to when i was younger. when i would finally let myself cry in the privacy of the wee hours, just before dawn, while dad was gone and sammy slept peacefully, blissfully unaware of how pathetic his older brother was. just like he does now. jack, too.

i’ll creep off to my bedroom on the same floor as the damn dungeon where i’ve spent more time than i want to admit. the bed, still made the way i left it this morning, will squeak when i sit down and i’ll wince before i remember that it doesn’t matter. nobody’s gonna wake up on my account.

staring at the top drawer of my nightstand, i’ll think about how there’s no way i’ll sleep tonight. i need to sleep tonight. not my normal four hours where i wake up each and every one due to a different nightmare, but a peaceful, dreamless sleep. 

i’ll slide open the drawer where i keep a few bottles of sleeping pills for the really bad nights. this one might just take the cake on that. so i‘ll unscrew the cap and swallow a few, but i‘ll know that won’t cut it, not for me. so i’ll take a couple more. that might actually put me to sleep. so i’ll take some more. maybe i won’t wake up for a few minutes. i’ll keep going until i’m sure i won’t wake up. all four bottles will be empty but that’ll be okay, i won’t need them where i’ll be going.

i’ll feel my heart slowing down and i’ll lay out on my bed one last time. tonight, i won’t worry about the nightmares that plague me in my sleep. tonight, there’ll be nothing. i’ll experience nothing. it’ll be empty. the Empty. that’s where i’ll go, just like billie promised.

i should be scared, but i won’t be. i’ll smile a little bit. maybe i’ll even get to see you again. my angel.

as i’ll feel myself drifting off, my mind will go back, back, back. it’ll rewind through all our greatest hits like that mixtape i gave you. i’ll wonder if you kept it. 

i’ll see a house and a familiar pair of scorch marks in the dirt behind it.

a blade will thud into a stack of books next to your head because i couldn’t kill you then and i will never be able to.

i’ll scream at you to hold on, that i’ve got you, that we can make it. you’ll shove my hand away with tears in your eyes because you think you deserve to rot away in a place worse than hell.

then a barn will flash before my eyes, followed by lightning-that-isn’t-lightning because it’s not, it’s just you. and i’ll smile because i finally feel home.

~~~~~

_in a dark, cavernous space, two shadows will wander the depths of Nothing, restless in their search for one another._

_“_ Dean _?”_

 _“_ Cas _?”_

_they’ll find each other and one will glow with a heavenly light, and the other will burn with a fire to rival hell, but they’ll shine so bright it casts the third shadow away. they’ll exist there, in the arms of one another, once broken but made whole again. when they touch, sparks fly like busted light bulbs hanging from a tattered ceiling: broken, in appearance, but the beginning of the greatest love story ever told._


End file.
